


Coast To Coast

by digthewriter



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Awesome Sharon Carter (Marvel), BAMF Sharon Carter (Marvel), Betrayal, Bottom Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Fighting, Friendship, Happy Ending, M/M, Manipulation, Mention Of Homophobia, Minor Character Death, Original Character(s), Partner Betrayal, Switching, Top Bucky Barnes, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:35:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25196302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/digthewriter/pseuds/digthewriter
Summary: Everyone he ever cared about is dead. Betrayed by someone on his own team and filled with a memory of a song he doesn't know anything about, Bucky lives in a cabin near Mount Chase, Maine. A stranger comes knocking on the door and as much as Bucky doesn't want to trust him, he isn't able to hide his attraction to him, either. Some questions are answered, but some answers don't make any sense. Is it too late to face your past and make amends?
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 4
Kudos: 52
Collections: Marvel Undercover 2020





	Coast To Coast

**Author's Note:**

> **Prompt #: NA. Self prompt.**
> 
> The plot for this story was originally inspired by the book "Snowblinded'' by E. Easton. I read this book ages ago and when I thought about writing a Stucky fic for this fest and w/ the theme of music, I wanted to write about a retired ex-military type Bucky who gets the wind blown out of him during a snowstorm by a man named Steve Rogers. (The original book/story has nothing to do with music.) Though, everything about this story is like 95% different from the original fic, I do need to give credit where credit's due. The idea of how Bucky and Steve meet, and how they manage to "resolve" their issues are 2 story points inspired by Easton so I don't want to say that this story was my original thought. However, the characters, the characterizations, and like the 98.42% of the dialogue is mine. Also the "music" theme and the songs mentioned are all unrelated to the book. (If I am honest, I didn't care for the book that much, but in my reviews that I tend to write about m/m books - the plot was great, the execution was not. Hence, I wanted to give this story a spin with my own style.) No copyright infringement is intended, and no offense is meant. Enjoy. Live and let live.
> 
> * * *
> 
> There's some mention of homophobia and homophobic communities. I used a rando character for some side-drama named Jake Nelson, it's [this guy](https://marvelcinematicuniverse.fandom.com/wiki/Jake_Nelson). All my thanks to S for the beta. The name of the company that's involved in this story is called SOUND, it might also be referred to as "an organization," "the org," and "the company." But I tried to keep the confusion to a minimum.

* * *

* * *

_I'm waiting for the night to fall_  
_When everything is bearable_  
_And there in the still_  
_All that you feel is tranquility_.

As soon as Bucky opens the passenger door of his truck, Jack makes a run for it. He's always hated riding in the truck to town with Bucky, but Bucky doesn't have the heart for leaving him behind. He likes to keep an eye on Jack as much as he can. He's a great companion, and Bucky loves him more than he loves his own damn life.

There was a time when Bucky had friends. Brothers to care about. But now, he only has Jack. 

Retired from his previous life, Bucky is trying to stay happy with his new one. Living in the woods and having a little cabin isn't all that terrible. Jack keeps him company, and he's got his books, and his music to pass the time. 

Growing up, Bucky always loved playing the piano, and now, he's taking up guitar. Maybe a little bit has to do with the tune that's stuck in his head and no one else knows about it. There was always that one puzzle he never solved. Besides, classical music from YouTube helps him sleep at night. 

He can smell the storm in the air and is reminded of what the young man at the hardware storm had told him earlier today. "A storm's coming." Of course, Bucky has always been able to tell. All those years of training, now even though willingly forgotten, haven't made him immune to being able to smell snow in the air. 

And also…trouble. 

"It's going to be a rough one, Jack," he tells his best friend, a Rhodesian Ridgeback he rescued ages ago, and the only living thing in the world who hasn't left him. Yet.

* * *

**ONE.  
And in the glow of the moon**

There is a kind of poetry and comfort in settling in for the night, when you have forgotten all your worries, and left your past in the past. Bucky feels this as he sits by the fire, a single malt whiskey in hand, and a book ready to be devoured. He loves reading old western classes like _Shane_ , especially because it seems simple. There was no technology, no fancy gadgets, and men did what men did to survive.

Of course, he knows men like him would never _survive_ back then. Men like him, would always have to stay in hiding. Still, if he can gloss over that part, he can almost imagine living in a time like that — where he wouldn't have to worry about backstabbers or villains — he'd be a man with his music. 

It would have been interesting to have picked up a guitar when he'd picked up a gun. But it's too late to think about all of that. He made his choices, and he must live with the consequences. Still, he can pick up a guitar now, learn a new tune, and cope with his anxiety. He hadn't lasted very long in therapy, but coping mechanisms and music was a lesson that's stuck with him after all this time. 

A bang against the door startles him back into reality and the present. 

"What was that?" he turns to ask Jack who whines and hides his nose in the blanket. "Thanks, bud." Bucky almost laughs and decides to let it go when there's another bang and a muffled noise. 

"The hell?" Bucky grumbles, grabbing for his gun under the couch. He puts it in the back of his jeans and goes to answer the door. "Who is it?" 

"Oh, thank God!" A relieved but frazzled voice…"Help me! I'm lost—" 

Bucky opens the door slowly and it's nothing but darkness and the snow, and a man looking flustered and shivering. He's got nothing more than a three-piece suit on and he looks like he's about to keel over. _There's that trouble._

"What are you doing here?" 

"I was…" There's a wind and the man's blond hair brushes past his forehead and he shakes. "My car broke down and I thought I could walk to the town but…Mercy, it's cold." 

"Who are you?" 

"Steve Rogers," the man says. "Mind if I come in? I'm harmless, I swear. I need shelter—" 

Bucky takes a step back, his right hand resting on the gun, and he nods. "Fine." The stranger quickly runs in and Bucky closes the door behind him. "Anyone else with you?" 

The stranger shakes his head. "No. Just me and my foolish self." 

"So, what are you doing out here in the middle of a storm?" 

Steve, if that is his real name, looks terrified. He's staring at Bucky's right arm, and Bucky wonders if Steve knows Bucky's holding a gun. 

"I'm not here to rob you. Please don't shoot me." 

Bucky raises an eyebrow. 

"I mean, I think, you…you're holding a gun, right? Is that safe to assume? I figure everyone in remote places like this owns guns. I mean, it is America." 

"I can't guarantee anything until you answer some questions, city boy." 

Steve gives a short laugh. "So, you already know my name, Steve Rogers, I have my wallet in my pocket if you want to see my driver's license. I was staying in the Bed & Breakfast about twenty miles up, the owners up there also have a hunting gun, FYI… I'm visiting for the weekend." 

Bucky doesn't say anything. That's half an answer. 

"I'm from Brooklyn. We all drove up here but then I had a fight with…" He hesitates. "… _my friend_ and I walked out. It was stupid, I know, but the storm wasn't all bad but then it got bad and my rental car gave up. I didn't realize we were running so low on gas. I should have filled up the tank before driving down, thought I could make it to the next town and get a motel. So, when I got stranded in the middle of the road, I figured I could walk or hitch a ride, but no cars came and … I've been walking for a couple of miles. I saw your light—"

"You must have good eyesight if you saw my light all the way from the main road." 

The man sighs and runs his fingers through his hair, suddenly realizing it's wet. "Shit." He takes another deep sigh and looks at Bucky as if he's about ready to beg for his life here. "Honestly, I didn't know where the heck I was going and what I was going to do. I didn't know if I could find shelter somewhere, somehow start a fire—" 

"Do you know how to even start one in the middle of the woods during a snowstorm?" 

"No…" 

"You should have at least grabbed a coat or some proper shoes…" Bucky points at the leather loafers his guest has on. "Must have been some serious fight." 

"I know. I'm an idiot. Trust me, I heard that a lot today. My phone's also dead and…" 

Bucky doesn't want to take pity on the guy, but it has been a while since he's felt like he was _needed_ , and in this moment, this stranger needs him. It feels pretty fucking good to be able to give someone shelter. It feels good to be looked at like he's a hero. 

_You're no damn hero_ , a voice reminds him, and Bucky frowns. 

"What? Did I say the wrong thing? Shit. You're not going to kick me out, are you?" 

"No," Bucky says, grumbling, and also hating at how sweet Steve looks. Bucky has this strange urge to protect him, and doesn't that open up a whole can of worms? If in this moment, this stranger—Steve Rogers—looks his worst, it's still a real good look on him. Bucky can't look away from those piercing blue eyes, those full lips, and that tremble which is making him want to wrap his arms around the man. 

"Aw hell," Bucky says to himself, turning. "I'll get you some dry clothes."

🎵🎵🎵

While Steve takes a shower, Bucky hangs the suit jacket and the pants to dry. There's also the shirt and Steve's soaked underwear—how'd he get the briefs wet, Bucky doesn't want to know—he throws in the dryer.

By tomorrow, his clothes should be all set and he can leave if it's safe. Bucky hopes it’ll be safe because he doesn't want this man in his house. He's not good with…people. Especially the chirpy, 'everything's gonna be fine even though I'm dying,' positive ones. There's something about Steve that's put him on edge. Sure, the man's good looking—anyone can see that, but good-looking men didn't rattle Bucky in the past. Then why does Steve? 

Steve walks out of the bathroom on the second floor and down the flight of stairs to the living room in Bucky's clothes, looking _damn_ fine, and Bucky knows. He's on edge because it isn't simply that Steve's attractive, Bucky's fucking attracted to him. As soon as he sees Steve in his clothes, Bucky wants to tackle him and take them all off. 

_Fuck_. 

Steve looks around the living room as Bucky's sitting on the armchair by the fire, Jack at his feet, and Bucky can't take his eyes off him. _Double fuck_. 

"You served?" 

Of all the things Steve could have landed his eyes on, he picks up the friggin' medal shoved up in the bookshelf in the corner of the room. There's no way someone could have found it if they weren't looking for it — so this already tells Bucky a few things about Steve. The motherfucker's nosy. And he obviously knows how to get under anyone's skin. 

No wonder he got called out on his shit with whatever his friends were accusing him of and ran. A meddler and a coward. Bucky has no doubt about it. 

"No." Bucky lies. "It's my dad's." 

"Oh…" Steve looks at the medal, confused, and Bucky wonders if he's going to say anything else but he doesn't. He puts it back on the bookshelf, atop the books in the corner, carefully. 

"My dad, too." 

Bucky grunts and picks up the bottle of whiskey. "Want some?"

Steve nods once and looks around the room again. "You play?" he asks, pointing at Bucky's guitar as Bucky's pouring Steve his drink. 

"Some," Bucky replies. He reaches for the guitar, but Steve's already picked it up and their hands brush. A spark between them nearly electrifies Bucky's spine and he retreats. 

"Sorry," Steve says immediately, looking equally dazed as Bucky feels. 

"It's fine," Bucky says, not looking at Steve. He offers him the drink and Steve takes it, their fingers brushing again. Bucky looks up to give Steve a sharp look, but Steve's gaze is on the guitar. He takes a sip of his drink, sets it down, and starts to play with the strings. 

It's not long until Bucky recognizes the song Steve's playing. He's heard it a few times, of course, he loves The Smiths, _This night has opened my eyes_ is a song he's always loved. He can't take his eyes off Steve's face as Steve plays. He's putting his whole body into this song— and it's beautiful.

🎵🎵🎵

It's time to turn in, and Bucky feeling like he's out of his element almost offers Steve the bed and decides to opt for the sofa. But thankfully, his senses catch up to him. He's got weapons under the bed, guns and knives mostly, and he doesn't exactly trust this stranger in his home. Even if Steve plays the guitar like an angel and looks like he couldn't hurt a fly.

 _He looks like he's built to serve, though,_ Bucky thinks. But that's his military past talking. Anyone who's fit, ready to serve, was someone Bucky liked to get his rocks off with. And maybe, just maybe, that's the sort of train of thought Bucky needs to steer away from. 

Next morning, the storm is still going, and Bucky finds Steve on the sofa, his shirt hiked up, his sweatpants slid down and then there's the trail of fuzzy blond hair from his navel down to his— Steve clears his throat. 

"My eyes are up here, pal." 

Bucky rolls his eyes and stalks away from Steve, still feeling embarrassed. He hadn't slept well last night, given how this hot stranger was on his sofa and all his dreams were about waking up next to him. 

"Coffee?" 

"Can I use your bathroom first?" 

Bucky nods. "You know where it is." 

"Right…" Steve says and sprints up the steps as if he's been waiting for permission. 

Steve is definitely _different_. Even though he was shivering cold last night, not dressed properly for the weather, he still looked pretty good in a suit. He dresses sharply, but doesn't act like a rich, spoiled brat. If anything, he reminds Bucky of those boys in Brooklyn he grew up with—those who were forced to dress nice and go to church on Sunday but after, managed to get their dress clothes dirty playing baseball or tag on the streets.

As the coffee is dripping in the machine, and the bacon is sizzling in the pan, Bucky hears voices come from upstairs. Well, it _sounds_ like it's multiple voices, but who could Steve be talking to? Is he on the phone? Didn't he say his phone was dead last night? Had he managed to find a charger? He hadn't asked Bucky for one. 

Growing suspicious, Bucky decides to investigate. It is his house, damnit. 

It's as if as soon as Bucky gets on the stairs and makes his way to the bathroom, the noise starts to fade. He's still suspicious about what's actually happening and if Steve is talking to someone, so he opens the door to the bathroom abruptly. 

Steve gives a yelp and water splashes everywhere. He was in the midst of washing his hands. 

"Who are you talking to?" 

"Uh…what?" Steve asks, looking confused. "I was…I was singing. Crap, I was loud, wasn't I?" He looks embarrassed for a quick moment and then his eyes narrow. Steve gives Bucky a scrutinizing look. "You don't know how to knock?" 

"I thought you were talking to someone." 

"So?" Steve huffs, bending down to clean the floor where he'd splashed water. He uses a bit of toilet paper, trying to complete the task. "Why don't you have any locks?" 

"I live alone." 

"What about friends or family—" 

"Breakfast's ready." Bucky walks out without looking back. That's enough of embarrassing himself for one day. 

It isn't until later that Bucky realizes that Steve's good at deflecting. He makes a mental note of watching out for that next time. If Steve is up to something, Bucky will have it figured out in no time.

0-0

After breakfast, where they don't talk much, Steve sits on the piano and starts playing Bucky's favorite song. Now Bucky _knows_ something's wrong because that's too much of a coincidence.

"What's this song called?" Bucky asks, trying to gauge the situation. 

Steve answers, looking at Bucky like he has two heads, " _Piano Man_. Do you like it?" 

"How do you know to play the piano and the guitar, and you keep playing songs I like?" 

Steve gives Bucky a wide grin. "Maybe we're soul mates." 

"Stop trying to be cute," says Bucky. 

"Please. There's no _try_." 

Bucky gives Steve a stare down. In the past, if he needed someone to spill the beans, this technique often worked. He's standing over Steve who seems to look like he's retreating into the couch. 

"Why do I get the feeling…" Bucky begins to speak when Steve interrupts him. 

"Oh, I almost forgot!" He jumps up off the sofa. "Earlier when you barged in on me at the bathroom, I thought about taking a shower, but your hot water is broken." 

"What? How?" 

Bucky himself hasn't taken a shower yet but he did wash his face and brush his teeth before coming down. He hadn't noticed because he's used to washing his face with cold water and doesn't like wasting hot water when brushing his teeth— _Shit_

"The radiator's probably broken again," Bucky says. "I called the guy to come and fix it, but they never seem to know what they're doing." Earl said he had a specialist and insisted on helping Bucky out. Now he's not so sure. Bucky walks away, leaving their conversation—well, his _interrogation_ half-way. _Was that another deflection?_

"I'll go set up the range boiler." 

"The what?" Steve asks, hurrying after him. 

"You can't go outside like that," Bucky gives Steve a once-over who is still dressed in Bucky's clothes with Bucky's wool socks. 

"Are you sure you don't need help? It's still snowing—"

"I need to take the dog out for a walk, anyway." 

"Okay, so what are you going to set up? A power ranger?" 

Bucky lets out a small laugh. _City boys._ "It's a home-made water heater I use sometimes if the power's out or hot water doesn't work. It's an emergency wood burning stove." 

"So, you're going to boil water so I can take a shower?" 

"Not only you," says Bucky, and he almost said, _so we can take a shower_ , and isn't that a visual he doesn't need right now. "It's something I built when I bought the cabin. It's a backup water heater I built in with the pipes. It's a stove which heats up the water, but also has a heat exchanger so the water doesn't boil. And when the radiator stops working, I fire it up, and it's fine. I haven't used it much, but I suppose you brought all the snow and the cold with you, didn't you?" 

When Bucky's in the house with Jack, Steve's cozied up on the sofa with a blanket and one of Bucky's books. _Maurice_. 

Fucking great. 

It's not only that Steve's picked up the gayest book from Bucky's bookshelf, but also he looks _damn good_ as someone Bucky can come home to. It is, of course, insane. Because Bucky has lost his mind—he just met this man last night and wants to keep him for good.

"Oh, hey!" Steve says with a huge smile. As if he knows how he looks, and how Bucky's looking at him, and doesn't give a fuck. Bucky wants to wipe that smile off his face so badly. "Did you fix the heating situation?" 

"Yeah. I'm still going to call my friend to come and fix the radiator." 

"Oh. Why?" 

"Because I can't fix the fucking thing myself." 

"But if you already have a system which works, why do you have to pay someone else to fix something that'll only hike up your heating bill?" 

So, he does understand _somethings_. 

"It's a small town. If everyone started living in the woods and stopped paying for electricity and heating—it's gonna go broke. I can afford to pay my bills so might as well keep a few people employed." 

Steve nods and then returns his attention to the book. 

It's when Steve's stopped talking to him is when Bucky realizes how he doesn't usually have casual company and he doesn't talk to anyone. It's a nice change. Maybe part of the reason he gets Earl to stop by and fix something in the house is so he can see a human now and then but on his own terms. 

Bucky doesn't like how Steve being there makes him face his own loneliness. 

"Whatever," Bucky grumbles, to whom he isn't sure and crosses the room to go to the kitchen and call Earl. 

Earl tells him because of the storm, it's going to be a couple of days for him to be able to send someone. And he knows Bucky can take care of himself, so he's not too worried about it. "Fine. Be careful if you're making other house calls," Bucky says. 

When he's done, Steve's looking at him funny. "What?" 

"You have a landline?" 

"So?" 

"You don't have a cell phone?" 

"No." 

"Why?" 

"I don't want one." 

"Satellite radio? Nothing?" 

"I don't need it." 

"What about keeping in touch with other people?" 

"You sure ask a lot of questions, pal," Bucky retorts. 

"Okay…" Steve takes a step back, hands up in surrender. "Obviously, I'm pissing you off so let me make lunch and make it up to you?" 

"How long are you staying?" Bucky asks. 

"How long will you have me?" Steve gives him a shit eating grin and Bucky wants to punch him in his perfect teeth. Except, he doesn't. Again, he wants to wipe that smile off with a kiss. Or maybe a blowjob. 

_What the hell?_

"Fine, I'm going to take a shower."

0-0

Bucky walks out of the bathroom in a towel and ready to make a beeline for the bedroom when he hears Steve freaking out. He immediately goes to check and finds Steve on his back with Jack on top of him.

He scowls because usually Jack isn't friendly to anyone, but with Steve he's showing his mischievous side — a thing he only does with Bucky. In turn, Bucky is jealous because that dog is getting more action than Bucky has gotten in a very long time. 

"Okay, that's enough," Bucky says, pulling Jack off Steve. 

"Thanks!" Steve says, wiping his cheek. "Now, I definitely need a shower." 

"You'll have to wait a few minutes. Since the radiator's busted, it needs a recharge so it's gonna take some time." That's not necessarily true, but Bucky is also kind of an asshole. 

Steve nods. "What do you think the chances are of a tow truck being available for my car?" 

"Bad. It's going to be another twenty-four hours before anyone's on the road again and you can't walk back to your car in those shoes you walked here with. When it's time to go, I can give you a ride in my truck." 

"When do you think that'll be?" 

"Uh…twenty-four hours," Bucky says, scowling. Wasn't he listening?

"I…so I'll stay here another night?" 

Bucky shrugs at Steve's question. "What do you wanna do? Go sleep in your car?" 

"No. No. I don't. But I can't ask you to—you've already been so nice to me." 

"I ain't being nice. It's what one human would do for another human in need." 

"Well, kindness is often hard to come by these days," Steve says, looking sad. He picks up the guitar and starts playing _Mad World_. Of course. 

_The dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had._

"What'd you say you do for a living?" asks Bucky.

Steve looks up at Bucky and grins. "I didn't." 

"Right." Bucky turns around and heads for more coffee. He's not interested in making friends with this guy and he's glad Steve has reminded him of that. 

"Oh, come on!" Steve puts the guitar down and goes running after Bucky. He's worse than Jack, Bucky thinks, man can't take a hint. "I thought we were going to banter! I'm exceptional at banter." 

Bucky looks Steve straight in the eye. "I'm not interested." 

"In what?" Steve says, laughing. "Not what you thought this morning. Or how you keep staring at my ass." 

"I didn't stare at your ass." 

Steve winks at Bucky and slaps him on the shoulder, "Yeah you did." 

"Is this one of those 'I know my ass is worth staring at, so everyone does, so you must've also done it?' kind of scenarios?" 

"No…" Steve says, laughing. "You have a mirror above your fireplace." He points at the mirror across from where Bucky's standing, "You didn't think I'd notice." 

"So? So what?" Bucky asks, crossing his arms and standing up straight. Hell yes, he's fucking annoyed he's been caught checking this guy out, twice now, but he's not going to admit to nothing here. "You want me to apologize?" 

"No, I want you to admit you are interested." 

"I told you, I'm not interested. Haven't you looked at a preview of a movie on Netflix and moved on? Heard a snippet of a song and then decided you didn't wanna pay for the digital download?" 

"Ouch," Steve says, actually looking hurt. "You cut me, man." 

"Stop it," Bucky says rolling his eyes. "I'll get some wood from out back for the fireplace. If it's going to keep snowing, I best do it while it's still light outside." 

"Do you want help?" 

"No. You don't have the shoes—"

"I could wear your boots. I'm sure you have more than one pair." 

"That's fine. You're a guest and you need rest." 

"I'm no damsel in distress, thank you, and besides, you've already decided not to fuck me for being weak and vulnerable, and so good-looking—"

"Tell me how do you really feel about yourself," Bucky deadpans. 

Steve ignores him. "So, let me try to impress you with my strength." 

"I'm not impressed to how you rushed out of your friends' cabin in nothin' but a suit and $500 pair of dress shoes." 

"I said I was strong." 

"And hot." 

Steve raises an eyebrow. "And hot," he says with confidence. "I didn't say I was _smart_." 

"So… proud of being a himbo then?" 

Steve's eyebrows shoot up and he throws his head back and laughs. Bucky can't help but admire the strong jawline, the curve of Steve's neck, and Steve's all over the place, but his hair looks perfect. "I did not expect this sort of language from a quiet man in the woods, Buck." 

Bucky shrugs. "I read." 

"Gossip magazines, apparently." 

"Anyway, you'll wait here and I'll get the wood," Bucky says and Steve immediately bites his lower lip. Bucky wants to groan. "Man, you need to stop unless you want me to throw your ass out." 

"I'm just saying…" 

"You know what? I think the water should be ready by now so why don't you go and take a shower? If not, then take a cold shower and calm yourself down." _Try to save a guy and he wants to give it up so fast._

"Can I borrow more clothes?" Steve asks, sounding genuinely worried. 

"Yeah. I'll lay some out for you." 

"And do you have a laptop?" 

"Yes. Why?" Bucky asks. 

"I found a cord to charge my phone in my suit jacket, but no plug. So, I need a computer—" 

"Sure." 

Bucky is a little surprised because he thought he'd inspected Steve's clothes, especially his suit jacket, last night prior to hanging it up. Still, he lets it go, maybe he missed it. After Steve gives him a grateful nod, Steve heads upstairs to the main bathroom. Bucky is glad to get rid of him so he can think straight for five minutes…well, wrong choice of words.

He grabs the laptop and places it on the coffee table before heading out. 

He isn't gone for so long, but Bucky's surprised to see Steve sitting on the couch in his towel, looking through his phone. Jack is obediently sitting by Steve's feet, looking content. Bucky's eyes go directly towards Steve's chest, and the small necklace he's wearing—a musical pendant hangs off the chain. It doesn't necessarily suit him, but at the same time, it does. _What does that even mean?_ Bucky scolds himself at the thought. _There's no need to get all philosophical and shit about this guy._

"It's working?" Bucky asks, as last night Steve was so worried it was frozen dead. 

"Yeah, but I can't get a signal to save my life," Steve replies. 

"And you made fun of me for having a landline. Need to call anyone?" 

Steve shakes his head. "No. I don't want to talk to _them_." Suddenly he gets up off the sofa and his towel nearly comes undone. 

This time, Bucky can't help himself. What is it about this fucking man? He can't tear his eyes away. He almost growls when Steve grabs his towel in time and keeps it in its place. Thankfully, he doesn't actually growl and stalks past Steve to throw the pile of wood on the floor next to the fireplace. 

"I'll get you your clothes," Bucky grumbles and he takes off his boots, tosses them in the corner by the door, and walks up the stairs. He can feel Steve right behind him. Bucky closes his eyes when he gets to his bedroom and breathes. One. Two. Three. And then he opens the door. 

"Buck…" Steve says, low, and Bucky has about lost his resolve. He closes the door behind them, to lock them in this place, so no one would know. No one would see. Who would be looking? Bucky wants to ask himself but instead, he's on Steve in less than ten seconds. 

Steve groans as his mouth latches onto Bucky's neck and Bucky's thigh is in-between Steve's legs. 

"Oh, sweet Jesus, finally," Steve says, and something about the way he says it makes Bucky think Steve's been waiting for this moment for more than ten minutes, for more than one morning. Still, Steve's mouth is hot and his towel _and his cellphone_ are on the floor, and he's between Bucky and the door and Bucky can't think of anything else but to take all of his clothes off too.

He resists undressing and brings Steve's hands above his head, putting pressure on them. Steve groans. "Is this what you want?" Bucky growls, surprised at the need in his own voice. 

"Yes. Please. I've been begging for it…" 

"Yeah, you have," Bucky says. "You've wanted me to pound that perfect ass of yours, haven't you? Your wish is about to come true." 

"Please…" Steve groans again. "Please do it. Oh, how it's a dream come true!" 

"Why do you want it so bad? Has it been that long?" 

"Uh-huh," Steve replies, bucking his hips up when Bucky buries his face in Steve's neck. "Something about being close to you," Steve whispers, "my body's been vibrating with need." 

Bucky knows. He _knows_ it's crazy. This man has been in his house for less than twenty four hours, and there's no way Bucky should trust him, and there should be absolutely no way, Bucky is even thinking about _fucking_ him. But he wants to. He wants to do it so desperately, it scares him. 

Has it really fucking been that long — he can't _control_ himself?

"Will you kiss me?" Steve asks, and the way he does it, almost breaks Bucky's heart. This man is good. If he's fucking with Bucky, he's very good. 

"What?" Bucky asks, startled by the question. 

"Unless you don't kiss. I know how you straight boys like to fool yourselves," Steve replies, sounding assured, but looking uncertain. 

Bucky chuckles low, let's go of his hold on Steve's body, and takes a step back. His knuckles brush against Steve's cheek, and Steve shivers. "I haven't been straight a damn day in my life," Bucky replies and Steve's eyes widen. To stop Steve from saying anything else and ruining the moment, Bucky leans down to kiss him. 

They kiss, and kiss, and kiss, and Steve pushes Bucky towards the bed. Bucky's walking back, fully clothed while Steve presses his erection against Bucky's jeans and guides them to the mattress. He pushes Bucky down first, and then gives him a once-over. 

With his hands on his hips, Steve says, "I can't deny you don't already look hot, but if we're going to do this—I think you're going to have to get naked."

Bucky shakes his head and looks Steve up and down. "And you're going to stand there?" 

"Hey, I'm giving you the view and the incentive to rush this along a little bit…" 

"You always this chatty?" Bucky asks. 

"You always this slow?" Steve retorts. 

"Fine…" Bucky says and begins unbuttoning his shirt and Steve's eyes are on his fingers. His eyes darken, as Bucky takes his sweet time loosening up the buttons, one by one. 

"Come here…" Steve says, taking Bucky's hand and kissing the tip of his fingers. He comes to sit down on the bed next to Bucky and continues kissing his hand, and then sucking on his fingers. 

Bucky takes a sharp breath. "I can't…I can't take off my clothes if you keep doing _that_." 

"Right!" Steve replies and then he's on Bucky again and that tender moment's all but forgotten. Bucky almost regrets saying something, but he likes the way Steve is rushing him now. His shirt's all but ripped off him and watching Steve struggle with the belt is almost comical. 

Finally, when they're both naked, and somehow under the bed sheet—Bucky doesn't even know how that'd happened— Did Steve suddenly become shy? Bucky reaches over the nightstand to grab lube. He has condoms there, but he isn't sure if they haven't already expired. He starts to read the label when Steve grabs the condom from him and looks it over. 

"It's fine," he says. 

"Wow, you're desperate…" 

"Just take me…" Steve is almost begging so Bucky doesn't waste any more time. Something about the need in Steve's voice—they're both desperate. 

He lines up against Steve and pushes in slowly. Steve moans when the head of Bucky's cock makes its way in, and his eyes shut close, and he clamps down, biting on his lower lip. 

"What? No words for encouragement now?" Bucky teases. 

"I'm waiting…" Steve huffs, "Waiting for…Sweet mercy!" 

Bucky fingers thread through Steve's hair and then grab the back of Steve's head. He pulls Steve in for another deep kiss, and as Steve gasps and parts his lips, Bucky takes the chance to push his tongue in. There's a rhythm he's trying to keep at, with both his tongue, and his cock, and he's relatively successful at it. 

When Bucky lets go of Steve's mouth, there's a string of _don't stops_ , and Bucky smiles against Steve's lips. He touches Steve, wraps his hand around Steve's hard cock, and there's another grateful groan that Bucky's a little proud of. 

He knows he's extremely close, so now, instead of stroking Steve's dick, he's letting him fuck into it. The _musical track_ of Steve's incoherent moans doesn't stop until Bucky pinches one of Steve's nipples as he's getting ready to spill inside Steve. From what he can tell, Steve isn't that far behind either. 

They're both panting for breath, and Bucky bites down on Steve's shoulder from letting out his own scream. He hasn't come like this in a long time, and he hasn't come like this with a stranger, ever.

🎵🎵🎵

Bucky comes to awareness when he feels Steve's body moves next to his, and then he gets up off the bed. "Where are you going?" he asks, hating the way he sounds.

Steve grins. "Be right back. Just getting a hot towel." 

Bucky watches Steve go and then cleans up with some tissues, throwing the used condom in the small trash bin next to the bed. He wonders if he needs to make a mental note for buying more condoms for the future. Is there a future, or is it only a fling? 

Steve returns quickly with a warm washcloth. He doesn't allow Bucky to do it for himself and instead, takes his time, taking care of him. His touch feels incredible, and he's sure if he doesn't stop Steve, he might be ready to go again, soon. 

He's about to suggest they best get up and Bucky should get ready for lunch—he has to feed Jack, too, when Steve plops on the bed, half on Bucky's body, and rests his head on Bucky's shoulder. 

"I hope you don't mind, I'm a bit of a cuddler." Steve sighs, wrapping his arm around Bucky's torso. "Mostly because I don't do this a lot, so, not many people to cuddle with." 

"People?" 

"Men. If it's what you're asking." 

"Exclusively?" 

"Well, that's the idea, but given my job…" Steve hesitates. 

"Yeah. Not many available men out in the woods in New England, either." 

"Hmm…" Steve gives a satisfying hum. He closes his eyes and starts to draw small circles on Bucky's chest. Before he knows it, or Bucky thinks he's doing it unconsciously, Steve's hand has moved down and he's tracing the scars on Bucky's right hip. "What's this?" he asks. 

"I…war wounds," replies Bucky. 

"I thought you said you didn't serve." 

"Not that kinda war." Bucky sighs then he continues, "I…used to hate the person I was. Hated who I'd become under the guidance of others. Hated what happened to the ones I cared about." 

"Oh…wanna tell me about it?" 

"No." 

"Fine." Steve doesn't sound happy. "Any tattoos?" 

"It's broad daylight, I think you can see for yourself." 

"Sorry, wasn't busy inspecting your body while you were pounding me into the mattress." 

"Fair point," replies Bucky, because if asked, he wouldn't be able to tell someone if Steve had any tattoos on him, either. "You got any tattoos?" 

Steve grins at him again. "See what I mean? If I was on my hands and knees, you'd be able to tell if I had a tattoo on my back." 

"That can be arranged, friend," Bucky says, because yes, the idea of Steve on his hands and knees is very appealing. "So, what is it?" 

"This…" Steve touches the chain around his neck, and the musical pendant that's there. "I have this note tattooed. This was my mother's, and though I do wear it often, I'm afraid I might lose it someday. If I do… I want her memory to stay with me." 

"But…" Confused, Bucky pushes Steve and turns him around. "You don't have a tattoo on your back." 

"No. I wanted you to think about fucking me again," Steve says with a wink. 

"Are you ever serious?" 

"Yeah…" Steve says with a small smile, "give me a sec." He jumps off the bed, closes the blinds, and turns off the lights in Bucky's bedroom.

Then, Bucky thinks he sees it. It's a faint glow on Steve's chest. Right above his heart. But it's too faint. 

"My phone has a UV light," Steve says and turns it on. Now, Bucky can see it. The shape of the musical note, it's etched into Steve's skin. "Usually, these types of tats only last five or so years so I'll eventually have to go in for a rework, but this isn't for anyone but me." 

"That's—" 

"Anyway, let's go, I'll make lunch." 

Steve's out of the bed and dressed before Bucky gets a chance to even collect his thoughts. It looks like, Bucky thinks, he's found a topic Steve will keep his mouth shut on. 

"Isn't that something?" Bucky mumbles in amusement.

0-0

Much to Bucky's surprise, Steve does share _some_ information, but it's mostly prescriptive. Steve talks like he's stating facts, presenting a book report: His parents died when he was young, and he lived with an aunt until she also passed away. He put himself through community college and then business school.

Something about it just seems _so_ familiar. In Bucky's previous life, he was told to have a similar cover. He had an office, a mailing address, and a security badge. When he thinks Steve's gone to the bathroom, he goes looking for clues in Steve's things. 

Steve's phone is locked and password protected. Bucky tries a couple of combinations and then gives up. He doesn't want the phone to be permanently locked and then Steve would know he was trying to get in. He finds Steve's wallet. Mostly hundreds, almost a thousand dollars in cash—and his ID. 

Stupidly, Bucky's thumb brushes across Steve's picture and he can't help his smile. _You're fooling yourself_ , Bucky decides to tell himself and then looks at Steve's address, trying to remember it for later when he'll look it up on the internet. 

The bathroom door opens and shuts and Bucky tosses Steve's wallet on the sofa where he'd found it. Steve comes down the stairs and rushes up to Bucky. 

"What?" Bucky asks, startled. 

"What are you doing?" 

"Nothing. What are you doing?" 

"Come with me." 

"What?" 

"Just come, Buck…" Steve grabs Bucky's hand and pulls him up and they make it as far as the laundry room near the stairs when Bucky pulls his hand back. 

He's known this man for less than twenty four hours, managed to laugh, listen to music, and fuck him all within a short space of time—so Bucky isn't sure why he is both surprised and relieved when Steve pushes Bucky against the washing machines and drops to his knees. 

"You have to make everything difficult, don't you?" he asks, looking up at Bucky, while he unbuttons and unzips Bucky's jeans. 

"What are you doing?" 

"Not wasting time." 

"Steve—" is all Bucky can manage— Steve starts to stroke him and is able to get Bucky hard. So quick. So hot. So fucking _talented_. Bucky isn't a man that praises a partner in bed, but if he were to do so, he'd tell Steve how good he was at this. 

How peculiar to be aroused, and feel guilty at the same time. He was going through the man's things, trying to find something, to prove he is right. He doesn't realize Steve's been dropped in his lap and who knows what's gonna happen when Steve leaves and if he's ever going to see him again. Steve lives in New York City—he's not going to come looking for Bucky up in the middle of nowhere. 

He needs to stop being so paranoid and enjoy _this_ for once. 

After dinner, Steve plays a song on the piano for him. The song he picks is _Imagine_ by John Lennon.

🎵🎵🎵

When Bucky wakes up in the morning, Steve's head is resting on his chest. Last night, they'd gone at it again, and it was hotter than the first time. Steve had held Bucky's wrists in a tight lock above his head as he rode Bucky. Bucky didn't mind the position because, like that, Steve talked even less, and it was good. Really fucking good.

As Bucky shifts in the bed, Steve makes a small, whiny noise. "Don't kick me out just yet." 

"I'm not kicking you out, but I need to get up." 

"No…" Steve moans. "I love your bed." 

Bucky chuckles, low. "Then you can stay here." 

Bucky shifts from under Steve and manages to get out of bed without too much of a hassle. He staggers into the bathroom to take care of business and brush his teeth. He's about to run the shower when Steve joins him, still naked. 

"Mind if we shower together?" Steve asks with his eyebrows raised and a hopeful look. 

"You're still not done?" Bucky asks, incredulous.

"With you? Oh no…just getting started, friend." Steve crosses the room and kisses Bucky. He walks under the spray, "Still can't believe how good the water feels. You're a genius with that power ranger thing." 

Bucky laughs. "Why do you act dumber than you are?" He removes his boxers and enters the shower, closing the door behind him. 

"Aw. Was that a compliment?" 

"Never," replies Bucky and he pushes Steve against the tiled wall, dropping kisses.

* * *

**TWO.  
Someone is coming to harm**

The storm's settled and Bucky gets a call from Earl saying a guy is going to come around soon to fix the water heater. Bucky tells him to take his time. He's got a quick fix and there are others in the town who might need the help more than he does.

Steve watches him in awe as Bucky talks to Earl. After he hangs up, Bucky notices he's starting to act shifty. Bucky wants to go to him, ask him what's the matter, and maybe try to make him feel a bit better. But he stops himself. He doesn't know Steve, not like that, and maybe it's all in his head anyway. 

After breakfast, Steve asks if Bucky can give him a ride to his car. _There it is,_ Bucky thinks. 

"I'm assuming it's still there. Or maybe it got towed. In that case, I'll probably need a ride to the town." 

It's obvious Steve wants to get the fuck out of here. And he's in a rush. Steve is again, looking at Bucky in a way he can't decipher. This is a new exchange of expression between them—the first time Steve's looked at him like that. It used to be desperation when he needed a place to stay, then dark eyes and pouty lips, when he was flirting. But this look…Bucky has no idea what it means. 

What did he expect? A couple of hot nights and what? He was going to stay the week? The month? Bucky wanted to get to know him better—in the end he just proved himself to be a complete idiot. 

"Get dressed. I'll do the same," he tells Bucky. 

"Are you okay?" Steve asks. 

"Of course," Bucky lies. It's not like he can actually ask Steve to stay just a little bit longer.

He's only been in his room for five minutes when he hears a commotion outside. A fight? Did someone break into this place? 

_Steve!_ is his first thought. He immediately goes for the weapons under the bed, but they're all gone. They were there two nights ago. 

"Shit." He's been leaving Steve alone in the house, in his bedroom while he takes Jack out, to check on the water heater, and to collect more wood. He's been right all along. 

He fell for it. He's a fucking mark and he is so damn stupid. 

When Bucky walks out of his room slowly, he's surprised to see Steve on his knees, his hands behind his head and many armed men surrounding the room. None of them are pointing their gun at Steve, they're all pointing it at Bucky. 

A blond, petit woman comes up front and addresses Steve. "Rogers. We were worried." 

Steve sighs and brings his arms down. He stands up saying, "I was going to bring him in." 

"When we didn't hear from you for over two days, America, we had to make a move. You know the process." 

"I was going to…" Steve spits out each word sharply, "Bring. Him. In." 

"Orders are orders," the woman says. Then she turns to look up at Bucky. "Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes, Sharon Carter, Senior Operations Manager. SOUND says hello." 

_SOUND_. 

Bucky is pissed. He isn't sure if he's pissed off at himself for being so fucking stupid, or if he's pissed off at Steve for giving him hope there was something between them. He's pissed that he fell for "my car broke down in the middle of a storm," sob story. He's pissed that he let Steve's charms get to him. He's pissed to have ever believed he was done with that fucking organization. 

SOUND is where Bucky wasted all of his twenties and decided to leave as soon as he'd turned thirty-one. _Serving Operations Under Non-Military Design_ : The United States government's special projects that are led by leaders that don't exist. 

He's pissed because he thought he could have a normal life. 

Looking at the floor, trying to seem confused, Bucky's thinking his next move. There's nothing he can do right now. He's surrounded and what really are his options? Kill all of these people for following orders? No, probably not. He could. He could try. But in the process, it'll only get him killed. 

"Where's Jack?" 

He hears a muffled whine coming from the back of the room and he is relieved for at least five seconds. Jack's still alive. 

"We're not here to hurt anyone, Bucky. Can I call you Bucky? I read in your file you don't like being called by rank or any other name." 

"Let him go." 

"The dog?" the woman asks in a serious tone. "We will. We'll take care of him while you come with us." 

"I'm not going anywhere." 

"I'm afraid that isn't an option, sir," Sharon Carter crosses her arms and looks up at him. She's tough—all business and maybe if he wasn't in a fucked-up situation right now, Bucky would like her.

There is a way she looks at Steve, though, Bucky's already noticed, and he knows there's something there. Even if Steve had been on his knees with his hands behind his head, he was trying to look like a non-threat—she'd given him a look. 

It's the first time in over a year now, Bucky remembers his own best friend. The one who's still missing. 

"What do you people want?" 

"One job," she says. "Finish what you started."

"I don't…" Bucky pauses. "I've retired. Done my duty." 

"We've found it, sir," Sharon says in a hushed tone. "We can't…I do not have the authorization to discuss this here. But we've found _it_ , and you're our only lead." 

Bucky doesn't say anything. He's holding onto the railing for life and is almost convinced if he yanks it up hard enough it'll come apart and finally, he'll have some sort of a weapon to throw at these people. 

"That's why Captain Rogers was sent here. He is the one who found it." 

Bucky feels the shift in the room, and he knows all eyes have gone from him to Steve. _Captain Rogers_. 

"Where is it?" Bucky asks, looking at Sharon. He's not going to look at Steve. 

"You haven't told him anything, America?" she whispers to Steve but it's loud enough for Bucky to hear. "I thought you were going to _bring him in_." Then, she turns her attention to Bucky again, "You need to come with us, sir." 

"I'm not going without—"

"All right, Clarence, you're up," Sharon says and a tall woman with dark blond hair in an all-black suit comes up to the front of the room with Jack's leash. 

"Jack…" Bucky takes a move towards the stairs, to run to save Jack when the soldiers in the room tense up and all the guns are back pointed directly at Bucky. 

"This is Clarence. She runs a great undercover op managing a doggy day care. She's a fully licensed veterinarian, and an excellent cook. She'll be staying here with Jack for the few days you're travelling with us." 

Bucky takes a long, hard look at Sharon's face and finally decides to come downstairs. Steve is standing about half an inch behind her. Bucky can feel Steve's gaze on him, but Bucky isn't looking at him. As always, Bucky only cares about one thing and one thing only. Jack. 

"How can you ask me to trust you on this?" 

Her expression doesn't change. "It's the job, sir," she says. "Clarence is here to do a job. Maybe not the same as you when you walked twenty plus miles in the desert in full gear or broke into an enemy compound to retrieve the artifacts, but we all have a job to do. I know you left it all behind and for whatever reasons it happened…"

"How would you even know? You were probably still in high school." 

She gives him an irritated look. "Well, even if I were in high school at that time, should it not be as equally impressive now, five and a half years later, I'm standing in front of you. Having you almost outranked?" 

"Only on an administrative level," Bucky says, and almost bites his tongue for arguing with this woman. 

She gives him a smirk. "I'm not here to compare mine to yours, sir," she says. "I'm here to do a job." She turns to side-eye Steve and then her cool gaze is back on Bucky. "You can't trust me. You don't trust the agency. I get that. But a job's a job—"

"As you keep suggesting." 

"And I don't have any interest in hurting you…the agency doesn't have any interest in hurting your dog. We have prepped an agent to take care of him. The mission is what's at stake here. Don't you want to see it through?"

When Bucky doesn't respond because he's still _thinking_ , Sharon gives a heavy sigh. 

"Look, Bucky…" Her voice is soft, and Bucky can feel Steve's resolve changing, as if he's surprised by the gentleness of her voice. "It's three days. Four, tops. Clarence is scheduled to be here for the week if she needs to be here for that long. She'll answer to your nosy neighbors, which you don't have, she'll even let the guy in to fix your broken radiator—" 

Steve shifts behind Sharon. The flashback of noises coming from the bathroom when Steve claimed he was singing. And now Bucky knows those noises when he thought Steve was talking to himself or singing was actually _him_ reporting back.

_I can't believe I let you touch me. I can't believe I thought I could let you in…_

"If anything happens to Jack, I give you full permission, as everyone around me is now a witness—to hunt me down and have your revenge. Not against the agency. Against _me_. Okay? Do you agree to that?" She looks right at him, as if she's able to read his mind, see his soul, and Bucky shakes his head. 

"I'll hold you to it." 

She winks at him and then pats his shoulder. "Come on, then. Let's get this over with." 

"I need to pack." 

"No, you don't. We have gear, clothes, and your documents. You need to get in the car with us." 

"How many cars?" Bucky asks. 

"I'm driving my own. And these guys have two trucks." 

"Fine, I'm coming with you." 

"As you wish, sir," Sharon says, giving a quick glance towards Steve who walks away without a word.

🎵🎵🎵

* * *

~~~ ** _FIVE YEARS AGO_** ~~~

Bucky was on top of his game.

One more mission completed, and he'd outrank all those assholes he went to training with and be able to boss them around. Of course, the ranking was in name only because he loved his buddies, and though he would be considered their "leader" — Bucky always worked as part of a team. 

Things started to go awry the moment they landed in Tunis. Their mission had been simple, or so Bucky had thought. It wasn't going to be more difficult than usual. Get in, retrieve the artifact, get out. His instructions were strict. Only he knew they were there to retrieve a music box. Not any random music box but also a safe. In their last mission, they'd taken down the clan leader, but he'd been paying people off in the agency and planting moles. Supposedly, all his transactions were kept on paper in this safe. If they had the safe, they would know who was behind killing Bucky's brothers and sisters in arms. 

For months, their team was working on finding out who the mole had been in _their_ department. They would arrive at their rendezvous spot and find the team missing, wounded, or dead. That's why this mission had been critical. Only half a dozen of his most trusted soldiers and four of his closest buddies. There was no way the informant was going to know when they were arriving, where, and how. 

But, still, somehow that asshole had found out. Three soldiers were shot in the head the moment they'd entered the building through the back door. The ones crawling in through the tunnels had better luck because it was Bucky leading them, and he'd changed the tactic last minute. 

But in the end, it was all for nothing. He arrived alone at the room which was supposed to be secure to retrieve the item and found an almost dead woman on the floor. She'd been beaten, and stabbed, and she looked at Bucky as if she'd recognized him, but he had no idea who she was. She reached for him as she held out a small instrument which looked very similar to a wind chime. 

"We need to get you some help," Bucky said, grabbing for his radio but she caught his wrist instead. She didn't look like she could speak, her throat was slit, and she was on her last breath. 

She could ID the guy who stole the safe and stabbed her. "Lady…" Bucky started but she shook her head again. 

She held the instrument up and started to play it. Bucky couldn't believe it. Was this lady for real? 

After she played the tune a few more times, Bucky thought he'd started to understand. They were there on a mission, and it was to retrieve a musical object. If it was a safe, surely, this was the key to open it. She was giving Bucky the key! He looked for his phone but found the screen broken. _Shit_. 

She played it one last time before she died.

That day haunted Bucky like no other. His soldiers were dead, his best friends were all dead. They hadn't even found Smash's body. Bucky had hidden from the bullets, protecting that lady's dead body, determined to take her back with him. If she'd recognized him, that meant, she was part of the agency. She had to be. 

When he got back, they took the woman's body away, and didn't tell him who she was. They didn't tell him anything. And a week later, he had a new mission. The safe was going to be someone else's responsibility. 

It didn't take long for Bucky to leave after that. He packed up his shit, severed all his ties at the agency, and headed up to Maine. He hadn't thought they'd come looking for him — he'd been wrong. 

Bucky has never stopped playing that tune in his head.

* * *

🎵🎵🎵

It's been five years and he can still remember it. Whenever he practiced music at home, he tried to remember it every night. He doesn't know if what he remembers is the way it is, but he has to believe that. He has to believe, and he has to keep remembering it. It's the last thing that woman had told him. She had died for it. Given up her own life for it and Bucky didn't know anything about her.

Somehow, Bucky has always believed it's his job to keep that memory alive. To never forget that tune. 

"How did you ever find it?" Bucky asks when he's face-to-face with the death object. It's more than a safe to him, it's the thing which holds the answers to who betrayed his team. It is something people thought was worth killing over, and it's something many have died trying to protect. 

Yep. A death object. 

"The keypad on the safe doesn't have any numbers. Each key emits a musical note. We believe you can probably decipher the code because you heard it from the late agent." The man sitting next to the safe looks at Bucky. "We've made a replica of the keys." 

Another agent pulls out a chair next to the man that was talking to Bucky and offers for him to sit. 

"It's in the same order as it's on the safe. We think maybe you should hear the notes, practice the tune out, and when you're certain, we can try to crack the code on the safe." 

"What was the agent's name?" Bucky asks. 

"I'm sorry, what?" the man replies, half distracted. 

"The one you just talked about. The one who gave me the code." 

"I'm afraid that's classified." 

Bucky snorts. "Sure. How did you find the safe?" 

"Sorry, that's also classified. We can't discuss the mission with anyone outside our agency." 

Bucky grabs the duplicated keypad and starts playing with it. A minute later, he looks up. "I need music sheets, and access to a piano. Maybe an electric keyboard. It might do." 

"What's your plan?" the man asks. 

"Practice tonight. I'll have it ready for your tomorrow."

🎵🎵🎵

After getting a meal delivered to his room, Bucky gets to work.

He's got the rhythm down. He listens to the sound of every key over and over and over again until he has the pattern. He plays it. Plays it again. Changes the variation to be sure… He's almost asleep, sheets of music, the music keys, and the electric piano all on the bed. 

The image of the almost-dead woman flashes in front of his eyes and he wakes up. 

After cleaning up and deciding he should actually get some sleep, Bucky heads for a shower. He's interrupted by an abrupt knock on his door. 

As soon as Bucky opens the door, Steve walks in. Bucky slams him against the wall, and his gun is under Steve's chin in less than a second. "What the fuck do you want?" 

"Put the gun down, Bucky, I'm here to talk." 

"I'm not interested." 

"Just please—" 

"Are you even gay?" Bucky accuses. "Or just a good actor?" There's hurt in his voice, and he knows it. He doesn't even care right now because just how many times is Bucky going to be betrayed? That's the more important question. 

"No one's that good of an actor," Steve replies with humor. 

"You're a dead man." Bucky wants to say more but then he sees the look in Steve's eye. It's the look Bucky has seen before. 

Guilt. 

That look in the kitchen today, _God was that only this morning?_ It was guilt. 

"It wasn't supposed to be like this," Steve whispers. 

"I don't care. There's no reason for you to do what you did." 

"I couldn't help it. The way you looked at me, and I…always wanted to meet you. I didn't think my crush…" 

"More lies." Bucky presses the gun against Steve's neck. "Tell me why I shouldn't kill you right here and now. I could say I didn't know who you were and you attacked me." 

"They want you so bad, they might believe you." 

Bucky snorts. 

"It wasn't like that for me. I took this mission because I knew I could convince you to come without the song and dance Sharon put up…" 

"Sharon," Bucky lets out a scoff, and hates how he's jealous, even to his own fucking ears. 

"She wanted me to look like an idiot. She knows I'd read your file, and I wanted to meet you. Two medals of honor, and you single-handedly managed to learn the code to the safe even when they'd killed your team off. And the missions—you're fucking legendary." 

"And it's why you did it? You wanted to know what I was like in bed?" Bucky punches Steve on the shoulder and takes a step back. He stops pressing the gun against Steve's neck and places it back against his belt and under his shirt. "I _hate_ you. Hate you for showing up, disrupting my life, taking me away from Jack." 

"No. You don't," Steve says standing up straight. He is so close to Bucky's face suddenly, and Bucky can't help it, he's missed this body. If he closes his eyes, he can see the things they did together. 

Then Steve kisses him, and like an idiot, Bucky kisses him back. 

"Hate me all you want but you can't deny this is something between us. It's been there since the second I walked into your house. I know you feel it." 

"I can't trust you. I can _never_ trust anyone who works here. Does what they expect you to do." 

"You used to be one of these people, Bucky." 

"Yeah, and then people died on my watch because I was way too in over my head. It's why I left. I chose to leave. To walk away. What's your excuse? Why are you even here with me right now when you _know_ I hate this?" Bucky shakes his head. "Right. I forgot. It was all an act." 

"I don't know why you're beating yourself up over that," Steve says. 

"Excuse me?" Bucky's about ready to punch Steve when Steve raises his hands. 

"No. Not about _us_." 

_There is no us_. 

"About your mission. I've read the report. I read your entire file. It's why I went on the mission to retrieve the safe. What happened—you were betrayed. There was a mole and those contents in that safe are going to tell us who it is. You were set up and there's no way it was your fault. You were played, Bucky. Everyone else sees it. Sure, you hate the organization, okay, no doubt about it. But it _wasn't_ your fault." 

"You don't know anything." 

"Right. Again with this song and dance," replies Steve. "If they thought it was your fault, or if they didn't think you were _valuable_ , they wouldn't treat you with this much respect. When was the last time you heard an ex-member of the org who walked away was welcomed back and treated like a celebrity? They need _you_. After all this time they still trust _you_. If Sharon or I go missing tomorrow, they're not going to send an army looking for me. Heck, just to get you to come here they had the best of the guards escort you."

Bucky doesn't say anything. He finally lets go of Steve's collar when his brain catches up with his body and he knows _how close_ they are to each other right now. 

"You are important, Bucky. In more ways than one." 

"You should go," Bucky says, taking a step back when Steve grabs his wrist. "Don't, Rogers…" 

"Oooh. Sexy. I like it when you call me _that_." 

"Leave." 

"Come on, let me spend the night." 

"What? No." 

"Please?" Steve asks, almost purring. The _nerve_ of this guy. He takes a step closer to Bucky, closing the distance between them again, and rubs his thumb across Bucky's lower lip. "They all know I came here to beg for your forgiveness." 

"Forgiveness?" 

"Okay, sex. They know I'm here because I want to have sex with you again." 

"You told them?" And Bucky wants to know but doesn't ask, _who's they_? How many people know Steve made a fool of Bucky and what— _seduced him?_

"Only the two of my best friends. They know where I am in case there's a last-minute mission or something drama," Steve says rolling his eyes. "Sharon and Sam. They know I'm crazy about you." 

"You're full of shit, Rogers," Bucky spits out the words and they are so full of venom, he's astonished himself. 

Steve immediately sobers and straightens up. "Listen to me, Bucky, and listen good. What happened between you and me—that wasn't part of my job. I wasn't supposed to seduce you. My mission was recon only. This…" He caresses Bucky's face and his own expressions soften, "This happened because you and I wanted each other. I'm not going to apologize for it. And I'm not going to let you belittle it." 

Then his eyes land on Bucky's lips and Steve licks his own lips. "I'm going to kiss you again. And if you shove me away, then we spend the entire evening fighting. I can do this all night. We can spend our short time together fighting, wrestling, and beating the crap out of each other, but I'd rather spend our energy doing something _else_." He gives Bucky a soft kiss and it's over so fast, Bucky doesn't get a chance to kiss him back. 

Abruptly, Steve let's Bucky go and starts to walk towards the door. Is he leaving? Does he expect Bucky to call for him? Bucky doesn't move but he watches as Steve locks the hotel room door and puts on the deadlock. He turns around and smiles at Bucky.

"Now, shall we get to bed?"

0-0

It's 4 a.m. For a moment Bucky wonders if he's home.

Home isn't where your things are. Home is where you feel the music as you settle in for the night. In this moment, Bucky hates to admit home is in Steve's arms. He's reminded of that first song Steve played for him _This night has opened my eyes_ — the words which came to Bucky's mind when he'd started the tune. 

_She took away your troubles, oh, but then again, she left pain._

The dream, if that's what Bucky thinks this is, is broken when the cell phone on the nightstand starts to buzz. Suddenly, Bucky is reminded, home isn't this hotel room. This is his previous job, his past life, and there's no room for him here, and there's no room for an employee from SOUND in Bucky's life. 

"Great…" Steve whispers, as if only to himself, and turns away from Bucky to answer the call — or is it a text message? Bucky doesn't know, and he doesn't care. "Yeah?" And then. "What? Why? Already?" 

Bucky doesn't stir. He pretends to be asleep, his body, relaxed. It's been a while but this isn't a trick he's forgotten. 

"Yeah. I'll be there. I'm leaving soon. Yeah… That doesn't matter now does it? I can't say anything if I don't know how long. Fine." 

Steve slides out of bed without a peep. If Bucky wasn't awake, he wouldn't have known Steve's leaving. He's good. Of course, he is. He'd fooled Bucky. He gets dressed quietly, and he says things to Bucky and Bucky ignores them because he's fast asleep. 

"Are you awake?" No answer. "I know you hate the company and you can probably hate me for being a part of it. But…I want to give us a try." 

Bucky doesn't move. He continues keeping his eyes closed and breaths steady. 

"If you don't say anything now, I'm going to…" Steve sighs. "I'm going to assume you never want to see me again. Is that what you want? I'm giving you an out, Bucky. Tell me." 

When he continues to pretend he's sleeping, he hears another sigh which is followed by footsteps walking away from him. He flinches when the door opens and the words "Have a nice life, Bucky," are said.

🎵🎵🎵

Bucky can't sleep after Steve leaves so he gets back to work. He's still writing down the music notes, playing with the tune to open the safe when, around 6:30 am he thinks he's got it. He picks up the hotel phone and dials the number they'd given him. After a quick shower, because he doesn't give himself more than five minutes to think about Steve, he's dressed and ready to be picked up and taken back to HQ.

He practices the combination over and over on the keypad and he knows it's driving everyone wild. It's a stroke of luck, or maybe his desperation to get the fuck out of this place because he finally makes the decision to give it a shot. 

The combination works on his first try. Of course, it does because Bucky's not a total idiot. Maybe falling for the wrong kinda man— _falling?_ Really? _What the fuck is wrong with you?_ Well, the point is he's not a total idiot. 

"That's amazing!" The team of names and faces Bucky doesn't want to remember congratulates him. 

Sharon walks into the room and gives him a huge smile. "Let's take you to breakfast, and then I'll get a flight ready to take you back. And oh…" She takes out her phone and hands it to him. "Jack." 

Bucky immediately takes the phone and starts to scroll through the pictures. There are only three pictures of Jack with Clarence, and he's happy. He's outside in one, and he's eating in another, and in the third, he's sleeping by the fire. "He's doing okay?" Bucky asks and he scrolls past the last picture, not realizing they're over, and then he's face-to-face with Steve. 

Well, it's not only Steve. It's Steve and Sharon taking a selfie. He stares at it for two seconds too long and then hands the phone back to Sharon. 

"Thanks." 

She nods. "Were you pretending to be asleep this morning when he left?" He's looking at him as if she doesn't need an answer. 

Bucky doesn't give her one.

0-0

They've ordered their breakfast and the silence at the table is unsettling.

"Can I ask you a question?" 

Sharon takes a sip of her coffee and nods once. 

"You've read my file? My work. You and Steve…?" 

She nods again. 

"Then you know about the woman." 

"The one who gave you the key to open the safe?" She smiles uncomfortably for a moment. "Yeah, we've read that in the briefing." 

"Do you know who she is?" 

She shakes her head. "No. They never declassified that. But…that’s something…that matters to you, isn't it? Is it why you left?"

Bucky doesn't answer for a long time. "Not just her. But I think after everything that happened, all my friends who left, and Smash— his body was never found, right?" 

"No. The search is still out there… Many of us think…" She doesn't finish her sentence. 

"He was fucked in the head, but I didn't think, I'd never think he would betray us. He's…missing. Or dead. I never believed they would ever tell me if he was found. But if he were alive, he would have come looking for me." 

"I can't say much about Sergeant Sean Marshall…" It's weird to hear her say Smash's real name. He hadn't heard it in so long. "But I think by now, they believe him to be deceased. And for that woman, give me some time. I know a guy who knows a guy." 

Bucky smiles. "Thanks. I'd appreciate that. Even if you don't end up finding anything out, I'm grateful you're taking the time to at least hear me out." 

Sharon smiles softly at him and reaches over to grasp at his hand. "My apologies, Sergeant, if this is crossing the line, but…Steve…" She hesitates. 

"Yeah?" Bucky hates the way his voice quivers at that one fucking word. 

"He's had a crush on you since the moment your file came across our desk. Whatever happened between you two, I know it's only been two or three days for you, but he's been jonesing after you for years now." She scoffs as if she can't believe she's saying it. "He's a fucking idiot, and if he were here right now, he'd yell at me for swearing…" 

"He loves to pretend he's such a good church boy." 

At that, she snorts, loud. "Oh, we both know he's not. He tells me everything and trust me, I _know_." 

"What?" Bucky asks, curious. 

"The laundry room incident?" It's all she says and now Bucky is so fucking embarrassed, he wants to head back home and hide under a blanket. "It's fine. He didn't have many friends growing up. So, when we met, we hit it off right away, and he has a bad habit of oversharing because he doesn't know how to keep a filter." 

"Of course," says Bucky. "He wears his heart on his sleeve and doesn't curse." 

"You swear more than you breathe and keep everything locked and tight in a vault," she observes. "It's a match made in heaven." 

"I don't know about that…" 

"You should give it a try. You know we travel a lot. It'll be a long-distance relationship—might work for the both of you—" 

Bucky scoffs, textbook for him to try and hide his feelings. "And when the sex gets old?" 

"Will it, though?" she asks, raising an eyebrow as if she knows something about long distance relationships that he doesn't. 

They enjoy their breakfast together. The silence has gone from awkward to companionable, as if they're both thinking about something but don't want to talk about it. He likes her. He does, and in some strange fucking way—he's glad Steve has her. 

Her phone rings as soon as they're paying the tab—on the agency, of course. Too bad the diner doesn't serve alcohol, Bucky thinks. 

"What? Are you sure?" Her tone is sharp and the hairs on the back of Bucky's neck prickle. 

"What's wrong?" Bucky asks when she hangs up and looks at Bucky, grief all over her face.

* * *

**THREE.  
Now everything's dark**

Waiting on the other side of the conference room is a type of torture Bucky isn't a fan of. Not that he's actually a fan of torture, but still. He knows it's about what they've found in the safe. He also, somehow, _knows_ it's about him, and it's about Steve. Because that call Sharon got, and the way all the blood drained from her face, did tell Bucky everything.

It's about Steve. 

By now, he's been gone for ten hours. He left Bucky's room around four in the morning and a lot can happen in ten hours. 

Bucky paces around on the small hallway, stopping often to look at the door—willing for it to open. It doesn't. It doesn't open for a long, long time. 

Finally, at around four o'clock, almost exactly twelve hours after Bucky had last seen Steve, the door opens. 

"What is it?" Bucky asks, rushing towards Sharon. "Is it Steve?" he asks in a whisper because he doesn't want anyone to know he cares. He can trust Sharon with it. 

"I'm not sure but…there's more…" 

"Barnes, Carter, get in here." 

Sharon closes the door behind them, and Bucky is face-to-face with five SOUND leaders. Two of them he recognizes. He doesn't move a muscle. 

"I suppose you must think you have the right to know what we found in the safe?" Nelson asks, looking like the complete asshole Bucky remembers him to be. 

"Given I came out of my retirement to help you fucking open it, yeah, maybe I do," replies Bucky. 

Nelson's eyes go wide for one second, as if he hadn't expected Bucky to say what he did, and then he snorts. Bucky wants to say more. He knows Nelson wouldn't be standing across from him right now, having the position he does, if it weren't for Bucky. If it weren't for Bucky leaving, to be precise. But he's not here for a pissing contest. He wants to know what he has the right to. And he wants to make sure, for some goddamn reason or another, that Steve is all right. 

"I'll give you the courtesy of what any low-level private can know," Nelson answers with a haughty tone and Bucky almost wants to reach over and wipe that smirk off his face. Almost. Part of him couldn't give a shit and he can turn around and make his way back to Maine, grab Jack and a few things, and head over to Bozeman, Montana. 

Bucky waits. 

"There are names, affidavits, contracts, bonds… some stolen from years ago, some held what we assume as collateral… most of the people on the list are dead. We think someone's making their way through the list and killing each off. Maybe he thinks he could have still found the safe." 

"He?" Bucky takes the bait. 

"The last name on this list." 

"Who is it?" 

Nelson raises an eyebrow as if considering not telling Bucky. If Bucky can go on for five years without knowing, then maybe he can go on for the rest of his life. 

"Sean Marshall," Nelson says. "Son of a bitch isn't dead, after all." 

"What?" Bucky says, feeling like the rug is yanked out from under him. "Smash? Isn't dead?" 

"Nope," replies Nelson. "He was the traitor after all. When you took him to Tunisia, he was the one who got all his friends and lovers killed." 

_Lovers_? Bucky is confused by the statement. Most of the members on his team were men and Smash wasn't gay. Not that Bucky knew because he would have told Bucky. 

Now he has to wonder if Smash would have told him. Did he ever tell Bucky the truth? They were closer. Closer than brothers, or so he'd thought, and now? The pieces are falling into place, but he still can't figure out why. 

_Money_ , he finally tells himself. Why else do people do the fucked-up things they do? Kill the lovers they once had. Could it be that woman? He also wonders. Is that why she had recognized him? 

"Where is he?" Bucky asks. 

"That's classified information," Nelson says, looking like he'd been fucking waiting to say it. He's been ready to shut Bucky out. "You can leave now. You're free to return to your hotel room and your departure arrangements will be made." 

Bucky wants to know more, "What about—"

"I'm sorry, sir," Sharon interjects right as Bucky's about to say Steve's name. "Maybe we can use Sergeant Barnes' help to find Captain Rogers." 

"Carter, watch yourself," Nelson snaps. "Nothing has been confirmed." 

"If Steve is missing, I can help," Bucky offers, mustering up as much humility as he can manage. 

"There's no need for that. Captain Rogers isn't missing. Who is to say he didn't run away like you did?" 

"Sir…" Sharon starts. 

"Excuse me?" Bucky asks at the same time. 

"I'm sorry. Do you want me to discuss this with you out in the open then? Were you two not engaged in sexual conduct at your cabin when Rogers was asked to bring you in?" Nelson asks but doesn't wait for an answer. "Were you two not engaged in sexual conduct last night in your hotel room? Sure, he left this morning for the mission—but what if he only disappeared on his own accord? Made plans with you to rendezvous so you two can run off in the sunset together?" 

"That's ludicrous," Sharon says. "We have visual confirmation of an altercation at his posted site in Berlin." 

"Carter, watch yourself. I won't warn you again." 

"What visual confirmation?" Bucky turns to Sharon to ask. 

"That's it. Carter, you're suspended. Get them both out of here!" Nelson snarls. 

"But sir…" Sharon insists. 

"Get out of my conference room, Carter, before I fire you." 

"Fine. Fine!" she snaps and grabs Bucky by the elbow and hauls him out of there. They're rushing all the way to the elevator and once when they are finally inside, she lets him go. 

"Sharon…" 

"Steve's in trouble. I know he is. I didn't know about Marshall being alive. Not until I got the texts… if he's alive, then he's the one who might have gotten Steve kidnapped. And these assholes won't send in a rescue team!" 

"How do you know…" Bucky pauses for a moment, "how do you know he's missing?" 

The elevator dings and they're in the basement level. The doors open to the garage and Bucky follows Sharon to her car. Once inside, she hands him his phone. "Look at the pictures," she says. "My contact in Berlin went by the site and took the photos after Steve didn't check in. He didn't check in for over two hours." 

Bucky looks at the pictures, scrolling through them, zooming in and out of the images of a wreck, broken glass, bullet casings. Finally, he sees something in the corner. A shiny thing. He zooms in. It's a chain. Broken and scattered and a musical pendant Bucky had seen for the first time against Steve's chest while he sat with Jack on Bucky's couch. 

"His mother's necklace." 

"Shit. I didn't think you'd catch it so fast," Sharon says. "I didn't think you'd know—" 

"Fuck…" Bucky says, putting Sharon's phone down in the middle console between them as she continues driving. He looks out the window. "He has the note tattooed in case he'd ever lose the necklace." 

"He has to be in pretty bad shape if it was left behind," she says. 

"Where's that? Berlin?" 

She nods once, "Yeah. I had Trick, my contact at the site, swipe the pendant after he sent me the photos. It means a lot to Steve." 

"Yeah…" Bucky drawls. "What can I do?" 

"You'll help?" 

"Yeah. We have to fucking find him. Nelson isn't going to listen to you so yeah… we have to…" Bucky clears his throat, hating the way his voice cracks, "we have to get him back." 

"Good," she says with a smile, not taking her eyes off the road. She waits a beat and then says a command to her car, it's to "call Sam." When a man answers on the other side, she speaks again, "You ready? We're coming in hot."

"I'm ready," the voice on the other side responds. 

Three minutes later, Bucky's introduced to a well-dressed, built, African American man who hops in the car, and leans over to kiss Sharon on the cheek.

"What's the plan?" Sam Wilson asks.

"Well, we're going to go and save America," Sharon replies. 

Bucky knows they're talking about Steve, but he doesn't know why she calls him that. He wonders if he'll ever find out.

🎵🎵🎵

When they arrive in Berlin, Sharon leads them straight to an empty cargo storage building where Steve had been taken. They inspect the area, but it's been wiped clean. Her watch beeps and she and Sam exchange a look.

"What is it?" Bucky asks. 

"He's still here." Sharon replies, going for her iPhone. "I can track him."

"Here?" Bucky asks, confused. 

"In Berlin. He has a close-range tracker on him, of course, from Buffalo, we can't track him but he's in this city. And good thing he kept it on." 

"Where's the tracker?" Bucky asks. 

"A chip implanted in his molars." At her answer, Bucky raises an eyebrow. "No one knows but me and Sam. It's how we watch out for each other." 

Bucky nods once, "So we go and get him?" 

"Easy as pie," says Sam. 

"I have to meet Trick first," Sharon says. "He has the pendant. And he is going to get us wheels." 

"What about the car we came in?" Bucky asks, confused. 

"No, the car will be too obvious. You and Sam can take a bike to the location. I'll have to arrange for a chopper," she says looking at Sam who nods. They are a team and Bucky is the outsider, and he doesn't mind. Doesn't care. They all have the same mission: to get Steve back home safe. And he doesn't have any trouble following Sharon's orders. 

She looks down at her phone and a brief smile flashes upon her face. "Trick is here. Wait for me." She leaves and returns in less than five minutes with the music pendant and keys to a motorcycle. "The bike's out back. Just follow the location and message me when you're there. As soon as you have him, come to the roof of the building. I'll pick you guys up." 

"Who's going to watch your back?" Bucky asks, worried. _He_ is going to have Sam. 

"Don't worry," she says confidently, "I have my tricks." 

They part ways and Bucky offers to drive the bike as Sam gives him directions. They kill the engine about half a mile away from where the tracker is showing Steve's location as they decide to go on foot. The entire time Bucky is torn between the mission. It's to save Steve, but what is he going to do if he comes across Smash? Sean Marshall is supposed to be dead. 

Sean Marshall was one of his best friends. But he also betrayed him. _Them_. 

"I know what you're thinking," Sam says in a hushed tone as they get closer, and he hands Bucky a gun. 

Bucky is surprised the man trusts him. "What?" 

"Steve is our mission. Everyone else that gets in the way has to be eliminated so we can get to Steve. Think about Steve. He's the one we're here for." 

"Right." That's all Bucky can say. The chances of him seeing Smash are low, and if he does come across him, it will be something he'll have to figure out. Smash, SOUND, and those documents in the safe aren't his problem. He signed up for one task, and it's best if he solely focuses on that. 

"Only two guards on the roof," Sam says, looking down at his phone. 

"Sharon?" Bucky asks and Sam nods. "How did she get here and where—" 

"We have to take them out so she can land." 

"Fine. Let's dance." 

They're on the roof in no time, going by behind the building which is only three stories tall. The fire escape is left unguarded. Bucky figures they weren't expecting company. Taking down the two guards isn't a difficult task, and both he and Sam put on their bulletproof jackets, grab their guns, and head for the stairs. 

"Does it tell you where he is?" Bucky asks, looking at the tracker on Sam's phone. 

Sam shakes his head. "He's in the building but I don't know what floor. He could be in the basement." He quickly shoots a text to Sharon telling her to stand by. They have no idea how many guards they're going to encounter once inside. 

Bucky isn't convinced that splitting up is a good option. 

"I'll go through the stairs," Sam says pointing at the door which will lead him inside the building. "You should go out back." 

Bucky has to agree but he's not comfortable with it. What if…what if it's like five years ago all over again? He doesn't want to be responsible for getting Sam killed. 

"If they know about Steve, then they know about SOUND. They'll expect me. No one will see you coming. It's probably a better element of surprise." 

"Just be careful. I don't want to have to find Steve and then explain to him why I got you killed." 

Sam gives him a huge grin. "Ditto." He hands Bucky another phone. "This is my backup. Text me when you find him." 

_When_ , Bucky repeats in his head as he goes back the way he came so he can get to the basement and work his way up.

0-0

" _Stop acting and wake up!_ "

An angry voice from the other side of the door vibrates and Bucky fears for the victim he can't see yet. He hopes it isn't Steve. What if Steve is hurt? And this man, whoever this asshole is, is kicking Steve while he's unconscious? He could be doing more damage to an already hurt Steve. 

To be able to determine how many men might be behind that door, Bucky waits. He doesn't hear anyone else other than the original guy. So, he thinks it's safe to assume there's only one person. He kicks the door open and immediately ducks down. While his opponent is still confused, Bucky does a quick foot sweep and the man is on the ground. Then, a throat punch and his knee in the man's face knocks him down cold. Bucky knows he's going to be out for a while and that's perfectly fine with him. He's not interested in killing anyone unless he has to. 

"Steve!" Bucky exclaims when he sees an unmoving body with blond hair and a face so black and blue, he only has to guess it's Steve. But Bucky knows. He knows he could recognize Steve's body easily. 

"Am I dreaming?" Steve's voice is weak and he only reacts after a few times Bucky has shook him, trying to wake him up. Trying to make sure he's still alive. "Or am I in heaven already?" 

"If that's a pickup line, it's going to need some work," Bucky replies. "Can you move?" 

Steve looks like he's trying to shake his head but he hisses instead. "I'm not sure…" 

"Okay, let me tex—" 

"Why did you come?" Steve asks. "You shouldn't have. I can handle myself." 

"Right. That much is fucking obvious, pal." 

"You didn't make me any promises. You don't have to do me a favor." 

"Wow, try to save a guy and this is the thanks I get," Bucky says as he group texts SW and SC on Sam's phone. Those are the only two numbers saved on the phone. _Basement. He's pretty beat up._ And then he adds, _The mouth's working fine, tho._

SC: _I'm two minutes out. Secure the package._  
SW: _Found some trouble on the second floor but it's all cool. Making my way down. B. can you meet me halfway?_

"Smash is alive," Steve says when Bucky looks at him again. 

"I know." 

"So, it wasn't about me." 

"Steve…" 

"No. Of course not. You came to get your revenge." 

"Hush now," Bucky says, softly. "I'm here with your friends. You're the priority here." 

"And what about—" 

"I said hush, Steve." Bucky grabs a knife from his pocket and cuts the rope where Steve's wrists are tied. "Can you move your legs?" 

Steve gives a light kick, it's weak, but nothing is broken.

"Great. Let's go and meet Sam. Do you know how many guards are in this building?" 

"My guess is around four to five on each floor. That guy…" Steve nods towards the one Bucky had kicked, "he relieved his friends because he wanted to have some fun with me. But since I was playing dead, he didn't like it." 

"Okay," Bucky says, and quickly grabs his phone again. _There might be more on the first floor._ He puts the phone in his pocket and grabs Steve by the waist. "We're going to have to take the stairs to the roof." 

"Any chance of you carrying me?"

"Maybe," replies Bucky. 

"Oh, then this must be a dream," Steve says. 

"Let's get this over with." 

They walk slowly, and thankfully, it's beyond quiet on the stairs as they make their way up. Maybe a bit _too_ quiet, Bucky thinks. Bucky can feel the trap. 

"I think you should wait here," he says to Steve when Sam comes up from around the corner. 

"I'll help you carry him," Sam says, grabbing Steve's left side. 

"I don't like this…" Bucky says softly. 

"Sometimes missions work out," Sam says in a reassuring tone and they both help Steve. It's a long and painful journey to the roof but they haven't come across any trouble. Sam did a good job eliminating all the threats. 

Still, before they open the door to the roof, they can hear the chopper winding down. 

"I don't think that's a good sound," Sam says as he helps Steve lean all the way over to Bucky and releases him. "Let me check it out." 

"No. I'll be your back up," Bucky says, "Together." 

Sam quickly opens the door and much to Bucky's horror, Sharon is standing outside with a gun to her head. She's got a small bruise on her lip as if she tried to fight him but didn't get far. 

Finally, after five years of wondering, and for about five hours of feeling betrayed, Bucky is face-to-face with Smash.

"Sam…" Bucky whispers, "Take Steve." 

"No…" Steve whines, weak. "You can't go to him. You belong to me." 

"He's delirious," Bucky replies and Sam takes a hold of Steve as Bucky let's go. Steve whines again and Bucky would laugh if this entire situation wasn't completely fucked. 

"Let my friends leave, Smash."

"What will you give me if I do, Buck?" Then he gives him that grin, as if they're back to being best friends, and there hasn't been any betrayal between them. As if Bucky didn't spend five years wondering if his friend had been dead. As if Smash didn't kill the innocent woman, and all their friends, and who knows how many other innocent lives just to get where he is today? 

That's enough for him to make the decision. Bucky doesn't know nor does he actually _care_ about where Smash has been these past few years. Did he keep tabs on Bucky? If he did, why didn't he come and see him? If he _wanted_ Bucky to know—if he actually ever thought Bucky would understand, he would have. But no, Bucky would never understand. 

So, his decision doesn't take him more than a second to make. He doesn't look at anything or anyone. In a split second, Bucky reaches for Sam's gun and _BANG_! He shoots Smash in-between his eyes. 

This man was not his friend. His friend died a very long time ago. 

Sharon let's out a loud "OH-MY-FUCKING-GOD-YOU-COULD-HAVE-KILLED-ME-ASSHOLE" and Sam all but throws Steve at him as he reaches for her. Steve's back in his arms, looking smug for someone whose face is all bruised. 

"You chose me," Steve says. "You love me." 

Bucky groans. "I really hate you right now." 

"No, you don't," Steve says and he collapses against Bucky. 

"We need to get him some help, ASAP," Bucky shouts. 

They're in the chopper and Sam takes the pilot seat. "Trick has a medical team waiting by," Sharon informs him. "But Bucky…" She hesitates. 

"I understand," he says. "I can't be seen with you guys." 

"Sam can get you on a plane back…close enough…and get you a ride safely to your place." 

"Yeah, that's fine," Bucky says, looking over at a sleeping Steve. "Just take care of him for me. And…don't let him chase after me." 

As they fly way and Bucky prepares himself now, finally ready and knowing he'll never see Steve again, the tune of _Stand by me_ plays in his head. And the joy of knowing that Steve will always have Sharon and Sam by his side overpowers the ache of Bucky never seeing him again. Everyone that Bucky ever cared about is now dead. 

Steve doesn't belong to him. He never did.

🎵🎵🎵

**  
_  
A few months later —   
_   
**

When he hears the garage door open and close, Bucky slides out from under the car, and sits up. He's expecting to see Jason there— his assistant mechanic should be getting ready to head home for the weekend. Instead, Bucky is speechless to be across from a face he has only seen in his dreams. And also, those late-night fantasies he doesn't like to admit he has. 

"Steve." 

Bucky doesn't know if he should be surprised Steve has managed to find him again. It took him some time to decide if finding a home, even if it's a temporary one in Montana, was the right move for him. But so far, Bucky has wanted to stay here. And unlike when he was in Maine, Bucky isn't living in some remote cabin off the beaten path. He's trying to be a part of something. 

Maybe he is more surprised it took Steve as long as it did. _Or maybe, he didn't start looking for you right away._ Should Bucky even feel any sort of way after he'd made Sharon and Sam promise him to not allowing Steve to chase after him? 

Jason comes stumbling in the door after Steve. 

"Bucky, we have a last-minute customer. I told him to wait outside but—" 

"That's okay, Jace," Bucky says. 

Jason nods once and steps close to Bucky. He whispers so low Bucky has to strain to hear. "It's a Mustang." And then a beat later, "He asked for you by name." 

Bucky nods with amusement. "You wanna stick around?" 

Jason looks conflicted. It's the holiday weekend and Bucky knows Jason's got plans but he's also been real good about taking on new jobs. 

"There'll be other cars," Bucky says to him and Jason looks relieved. Bucky has no idea why Steve is here, or for that matter, how long he's staying. If he drove a Mustang here, it's probably to keep Bucky's cover. Bucky opened up shop a few months after moving to Bozeman and specializes in working on classic cars. 

"Okay, see you later then, I guess…" Jason still looks hesitant as he leaves, closing the door behind him. 

"What are you doing here?" Bucky asks, still sitting on the wooden trolley. 

Steve's looking at Bucky as if he's never seen him before. They keep eye contact for a while until Steve's gaze starts to roam across Bucky's face, so Bucky does the same. He looks good. The last time he'd seen Steve, his face was pretty beat up, and Bucky has to wonder if he got some work done to being beautiful as ever. It isn't unheard of. Many spies in the field who use their looks to get in tend to opt for plastic surgery after an injury. 

_Fuck_. Bucky scolds himself. _Now, you're here thinking he's beautiful._

"You've got a bit of…" Steve takes a tentative step towards Bucky, then clears his throat. "Grease." 

"Oh," Bucky says, wiping at his cheek with the back of his hand. 

"No…the other side," Steve says, his voice hoarse. 

"You just got here," Bucky says with a snort. "Try to keep it in your pants, Captain Rogers." 

Steve blushes which does something to Bucky he doesn't wish to admit yet. "I didn't know hot mechanics were my thing…" he pauses to clear his throat again, "was something I could add to my kink list."

"A pretty boy like you…" Bucky says standing up and he almost loses his footing when he feels the heat between his and Steve's body. Maybe he should have stayed sitting down. 

Steve throws his head back to laugh, and Bucky's eyes are immediately on that long, muscular neck, which has been haunting his dreams. How easy it'd be to lean down, suck on that skin, and leave a mark there. "I taught myself everything about surviving off-grid, creating hot water stoves and I managed to make my own induction hot plate— to find out you've opened up shop in the middle of a town with indoor plumbing." 

"I had indoor plumbing in my cabin." 

"I know…" Steve says with a smile. "I can pull up in front of your apartment and park in a garage as opposed to leaving my car on the side of a road." 

Bucky rolls his eyes. "You still haven't told me why you're actually here." 

"I read on your website you were closed for the long weekend and I thought maybe it was time… I came to celebrate. Off-grid. Well, so to speak. You have a _website_." 

"Well, I wanted to open up a shop and people always wanna text you and I'm not giving anyone my cell phone number so they can leave messages by email." 

"And you have a cell phone…" Steve says, shocked. 

"Things change," says Bucky. _People are crazy and times are strange, I used to care, but things have changed._

Now, Steve looks impressed. He crosses his arms and gives Bucky a challenging look. "While you were at it, did you become straight too?" 

"You mean you don't already know about the wife and two kids I got upstairs?" Bucky rolls his eyes. "Let me guess… you already did the _recon_. You know all about Jason and his secret-boyfriend he doesn't want anyone to know about. You probably even wondered if I let the kid blow me sometimes." 

"Have you?" Steve asks with an eyebrow raised. 

"Thought about it." 

"Oh…" 

Bucky, in fact, has _not_ thought about it. If Bucky does allow himself to have these thoughts, he's been forcing them onto porn, so he doesn't have to think about Steve whenever he gets hard. What happens in his dreams is something he can't control, just yet, so he's letting that one go. Jason had come to Bucky looking for a job even when Bucky didn't have any customers. He said he wanted to be useful and a quick conversation with the kid told Bucky everything he needed to know. 

Montana isn't a gay friendly state, there are some people in town who suspect things about Bucky, mainly because he's stated a few times he isn't interested in women, but no one dares approach him. Jason wanted to learn something useful, so if and when he accidentally came out, he would have something under his belt that didn't make him look pansy. He can fight and he can fix cars. No one would guess he and Charlie weren't anything _but_ best friends. 

"He's been looking to move to Seattle," says Steve. A fact, Bucky already knows. 

"What'd you do? Hacked the server and were watching his online activity?" Steve doesn't answer. "Of course you did." 

"I wanted to make sure you were safe," says Steve. 

"I'm not your concern. I'm not the SOUND's concern—" 

"I left SOUND," Steve says. He rocks back and forth on his feet, looking around the room, and for the first time, avoiding Bucky's eyes. "It's why it took me so long to come… At first, it was the recovery at the hospital. Then, it was the tug of war interrogation about Marshall. Then, finally, after my sick leave was over, I submitted my resignation. Turns out when you don't simply up and leave, there's a lot of paperwork." 

As if to relieve the tension building in the room, Jack comes rushing in from the backyard. He doesn't stop for Bucky but immediately jumps up at Steve. 

"Hey boy!" Steve bends down to pet Jack and plays with his collar. "You should get him a new one," he says as he takes it off Jack's neck and hands it to Bucky. "Sharon had Clarence install a location tracker. She didn't tell me at first, but when I was serious about quitting, and went through the motions… She says _Hi_ by the way and apologizes for not keeping her promise." 

Bucky nods, taking the collar in his hand. "I can't fucking believe it," he says. Bucky had swept his entire goddamn place after he'd returned from Berlin and hadn't found any trackers. Of course, he'd been too stupid to realize they would use Jack against him. It's his own damn fault for not catching it. Still, he also hasn't exactly kept a low profile after arriving in the Midwest. Part of him wanted to know if Steve would ever find him. Part of him wanted to beat SOUND at its own game. 

"What promise?" Bucky asks. 

"Apparently she'd promised to keep me from chasing after you but then she also owed me a favor, so it evened out." 

"What favor?" 

Steve stands up straight and is face-to-face with Bucky again. "It's my birthday. She can't deny me a present for my birthday, so in this case, it was to come and see you." 

"Your birthday?" Bucky asks. "It's the fourth of July weekend." 

"Yep. I'm here to celebrate," says Steve. 

"America," Bucky says. It's not a question, nor is it a statement. It's the understanding dawning on him after all this time. "It's why she calls you that. You were born on the fourth of July." 

Steve grins at her. "It's a stupid nickname." 

"I was curious, is all." 

"You could have asked her." 

Bucky hums. "I suppose. But it was none of my business." 

"But saving me was?" 

"It was a rescue mission and she asked me to tag along." 

"Not what she told me." 

"Believe what you want, Steve. I'm not going to stop you." 

"Okay…" Steve says in a way it makes Bucky think his patience is growing thin. "Are you going to stop me from kissing you?" 

"Is that why you're here? For a quick birthday fuck?" 

"Well," Steve drawls. "Not a quick one. I did plan to celebrate the _whole_ weekend." 

Bucky isn't going to lie because he is excited Steve is here. When Steve had come into his life, he was finally faced with what had been missing. Bucky always thought he was all right on his own, and he and Jack would survive it all, and then Steve had been there. And he'd been so… Steve. And it was nice—the idea of Bucky having someone to come home to. 

"Take me upstairs," Steve says, once again, yanking Bucky out of his own thoughts. Probably for his own good, anyway. 

"What?" 

"I'm here. I came to see you. It's my birthday and I want you." 

"You _want_ me?" Bucky asks, skeptical. "To fuck?" When Steve doesn't say anything, Bucky adds, "You came all the way here in the middle of the country because you wanna fuck a guy you met half a year ago?" 

Steve scowls. "No, I met a guy half a year ago, and he changed my life. He risked his own to save me, and he also happened to give me the best sex of my life, thank you very much. I came to the middle of the country, after I _quit_ my job and left all my friends behind because I want to be with this guy. This stupid _man_ who doesn't understand he… that _you_ … Buck, I can't sleep. I can't eat… I can't do anything normal anymore. You're it for me. Or maybe you're not. But I have to know. I have to be _with_ you to find out. I can't keep wondering for the rest of my life if this isn't what I'm supposed to be doing." He closes the distance between them and adds, "If this isn't what's _it_ for me." 

Bucky smirks to himself because this is a pretty good love confession. He must admit. "So what? You wanna be my assistant mechanic? SOUND will allow that?" 

"I don't know anything about fixing cars, but I do know if I see you in this mechanic outfit every day, I'm going to want to tear it off you. Make you even dirtier than you are. And I keep wondering if you bottom because it's taking every inch of control I have in my body to not push you over the hood of this car right now…" 

"And what if I don't bottom?" Bucky questions. 

This time it's Steve who smirks. "Then… I don't mind getting a little grease on me if it's what floats your boat." 

"You'd look good with grease on you, pretty boy." Steve bites his lower lip, his cheeks giving away to a hint of pink. "And I have been known to…" Bucky pauses. 

"Known to what?" Steve asks, curious. 

"Bottom," says Bucky. 

"So… it's okay that I'm here?" 

"Well, you already are here. Might as well celebrate your birthday."

0-0

Bucky decides to forgo the option of doing it on the hood for the car but does manage to drag Steve upstairs to his apartment above the garage. First, he makes sure to lock up and leave enough food and water out for Jack. He may have decided to temporarily settle in a small town, still, he's not an idiot.

In the bedroom, Steve is all hands. He's touching and kissing Bucky everywhere as if they are so used to each other's bodies and have missed each other something fierce. 

"I have dreamt of being inside you…" Steve purrs against Bucky's ear as his hands grab a hold of Bucky's belt and yanks it off him. 

"I have dreamt of this but with you talking less," Bucky quips which earns him a smack on his ass. 

"No chance," Steve promises him. "I plan on telling you exactly how I'm going to have you, and how amazing it is while I'm—"

Bucky shuts him up with a kiss. It isn't that he doesn't like Steve when he's speaking, it's just that after all these months, Steve needs to be shown what else he can do with his talented mouth. 

Their bodies wrap around each other, and Bucky groans when Steve pushes inside him, taking something Bucky hasn't always been so willing to give. 

Steve moans low, deep, and breathy in Bucky's ear as he comes inside him. It isn't anything he's shown Bucky before, and Bucky finds himself wondering if Steve will stick around long enough for Bucky to learn new things about him—to have new experiences to remember him by. 

"Tell me I can stay longer than a weekend," Steve says, wrapping his arm around Bucky's waist as he molds his body around Bucky's. 

"You can stay as long as you want," Bucky says, meaning every word of it. They are looking for a music teacher at the high school.

🎵🎵🎵

EPILOGUE

After Jason's boyfriend Charlie graduates high school, and Jason finishes his first year at the Bozeman City College, they finalize their decision to move to Seattle. 

"You're just the type to make friends everywhere you go, aren't you?" Steve teases Bucky as they help pack Jason's car for the big move. 

"Can't help it. This fool came into my life during a snowstorm and made me realize living alone was no fun." 

"Is that why you moved here? To make new friends?" 

Bucky shakes his head. He never did tell Steve why he'd decided to randomly move to a city and a state he'd only heard about once. 

"A long time ago Smash told me about this city. He said he'd stopped by once and he loved the mountains and life seemed simple." 

"Oh…" Steve says, looking confused. "Did you feel guilty?" Bucky doesn't answer right away so Steve continues, "Wanted to feel close to him." 

"Zoey," Bucky says, and then they're both quiet for a long minute as Bucky collects his thoughts. 

Steve knows him long enough now to give him the space. "Sharon did good on her promise. She found out her name. The woman who'd died in Tunisia. She was an undercover agent involved with Smash." 

Steve's eyes widen and his shock is genuine enough to tell Bucky, Sharon never shared this intel with him. "Zoey Alice Jones. She was Smash's girlfriend and they were both working separately on the mission until he betrayed—well, you know the story." 

"Okay…" Steve waits. 

"She's from here. When she went missing, her family had reported her but she was never found. According to her cover she was working as a travel guide on the East Coast. Then she was gone. No calls, no letters, no _body_. SOUND didn't inform the family. But Sharon found connections. Besides her parents, Zoey left behind a much younger brother." 

"Who?" 

"Charlie." 

" _Charlie?_ Jason's Charlie?" 

"Our Charlie." Bucky nods. "At first, I got here to make sure I don't know, to find out about the family. I decided to stay for a while to keep an eye out for things and then Jason started working for me. I needed a cover and I'm good with my hands — one thing led to another… and if he's going to move away to the West Coast. I gotta watch out for him. For both of them."

"Wait. So, are we mov—? Are we moving to Seattle?" 

Bucky smiles at Steve. "It's a whole lot gay friendlier than this town. And Jason's gonna enroll in an Auto Mechanic school." 

"Well, at least in Seattle, Sam and Sharon will want to come and visit me!" Steve says, excited. 

"I know you hated living here." 

Steve gives him a soft smile. "No. I liked living here with you…"

"But…?"

"But I don't mind the idea of being able to hold your hand when we're at a market. Eventually, always having to look over your shoulder to see if someone's watching or catching myself if I'm acting too gay gets old." 

"Yeah," Bucky agrees. "It does." 

And then again, on cue, Jack comes barking out of the house and jumps up on Steve. His new dog collar tag which is now in the shape of a musical note hangs from his neck. 

It's as if Jack knows their life is going to change again, and he wants to make sure he's a part of it. For Bucky, Jack and Steve are now always going to be a part of everything he does—travelling from coast to coast. 

THE END.

**Author's Note:**

> I made a little art thingy for this fic, you can see on tumblr here: [LINK](https://stevedigsbucky.tumblr.com/post/626663136371638272/im-finally-here-to-claim-my-story-that-i-wrote)


End file.
